


Culinary Symbiosis

by Brumeier



Series: Bite Sized Fic 2018 [7]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Comfort Food, Cooking, First Kiss, Friendship, M/M, Prompt Fill, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 20:05:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13911192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: LJ Comment Fic for Love & Hate prompt:Stargate Atlantis, Ronon Dex (+/any), he loves food but hates cooking.In which people try to make Ronon feel better with food, and it works.





	Culinary Symbiosis

**Grilled Cheese Sandwiches**

The thing was, John saw a little of himself in Ronon. He remembered what it was like, being young and on his own with no family to support him. It hadn't been quite so life or death when his father threw him out, of course, but it still gave him a soft spot for the big guy. That was part of the reason he fought so hard for Ronon to stay. And why he felt compelled to show him the fine art of John Sheppard cuisine. 

"The trick to a good grilled cheese is keeping the griddle at the right temperature," John explained. "And to season the butter." 

He put action to words, showing Ronon step-by-step how to make it perfect. They had locally sourced cheese and thick slabs of freshly baked bread, and John added a few apple slices as well. He was liberal with the butter and used a mix of Milky Way and Pegasus spices in just the right proportions. 

"I didn't know you could cook," Ronon said, watching avidly. 

"This is my best thing," John admitted. "I can cook eggs a couple different ways and make a marinara sauce that doesn't make you want to gag, but that's about it." 

"And Earthers like this melted cheese thing?" 

"It's one of the few things we can all agree on." John plated the sandwiches and cut them in half. He handed one to Ronon. "You must've done a lot of cooking. Before." 

Ronon shrugged. He took a big bite of the grilled cheese, and his eyebrows went up. "How is this so good? It's just bread and cheese." 

"I know, right?" 

They ate together in the kitchen, standing by the stove, a small island of calm in the midst of the controlled chaos that was the KP prepping for lunch. John knew if he was anyone else he'd have been tossed out on his ear. Sometimes it was good being the boss. 

"You want to try making one?" John asked once they'd finished. "It's easy." 

Ronon shook his head. "Nah. I'm good. Thanks though." 

He clapped John on the shoulder and left. 

**Remembrance Cake**

There were few things Teyla could think of that were as terrible as what Ronon had been through. She could not imagine what it would be like, losing not only her family but her whole culture, her people, their entire history. To be so untethered was unthinkable. 

Ronon was a proud warrior, a survivor, but beneath his calm exterior Teyla could sense his sadness and uncertainty. John went out of his way to ensure that Ronon felt at home in Atlantis, but seven years as a Runner could not be wiped away in several weeks of relative safety in the city. 

She had seen Ronon eat, his tray piled impossibly high with food. He ate like a man who was unaccustomed to knowing when he would get his next meal. Teyla was almost certain he was hiding food in his quarters as well, MREs and other things that wouldn't turn rotten right away. 

"Come," she said. "I will show you how to make traditional remembrance cake." 

They were visiting the Athosian settlement on Lantea, and Ronon's presence there served to make Teyla all the more grateful that she had a settlement to return to when she needed to remind herself of her own history. It was too easy living in the city of the Ancestors at times, where food was abundant and all her needs were met so efficiently. 

"Every ingredient recalls a collective memory. Harvests, celebrations, even cullings. All that make us who we are we remember as we fashion this cake." 

They weren't fancy, like Earther cakes with their frosting and fruit fillings and chocolate. Remembrance cakes were simple, homely but just sweet enough. Teyla had made them with Charin and her father, and someday hoped to teach her own children. 

Ronon watched, and dutifully crushed the lingen nuts when asked. They ate the cakes warm from the clay oven with just a bit of honey drizzled on top. 

"These are really good. Thanks for sharing them with me," Ronon said around a mouthful of cake. 

"It would be my pleasure to teach you the recipe," Teyla offered. "So you can make them whenever you like." 

Ronon shook his head. "No thanks. I'm not much of a cook." 

**Pig-n-Tater Casserole**

No-one would accuse Rodney of being sensitive to people's feelings, and he was mostly fine with that. He could do it when it was really important, or if it was Sheppard. But even someone as socially blind as Rodney could see how unhappy Ronon was after that business in Sateda. 

He tried to think of some way he could make the caveman feel better, but his options were limited. Ronon wasn't overly impressed by Rodney's scientific prowess, and Rodney couldn't do any of the artsy things Ronon seemed to like. But there was one thing they had in common: they loved to eat. 

So Rodney took it upon himself, at great personal sacrifice because he had a lot going on in the labs at the moment, to teach Ronon how to make the McKay comfort food special. He barely even had to threaten the kitchen staff to get access. 

"I used to make this for Jeannie when we were kids," Rodney said as he assembled the ingredients. "Casseroles are easy because you just dump everything in one dish." 

"What does it mean? Casserole." Ronon rolled the word around a few times, drawing out the sibilants like a talking snake in a cartoon. 

"How should I know? I’m not Julia Child. Maybe it means a whole dinner cooked in one dish." 

Rodney sliced the potatoes and had Ronon slice off some not-ham from the leftover roast. 

"Jeannie calls it pig-n-tater casserole, but everyone else in the world calls it scalloped ham and potatoes." 

Rodney showed Ronon how to sauté the onions and get the sauce to the right thickness without overcooking it. Ronon helped layer all the ingredients in the casserole dish, and then they just had to clean up while they waited for the thing to bake. 

It almost tasted like the real deal, and Rodney got a bit nostalgic as he chewed. He forgot, sometimes, how close he and Jeannie had been back in the day. They'd really only had each other because their parents were such self-absorbed assholes. 

"I like it," Ronon said. He shoved another heaping forkful in his mouth. 

"I can give you the recipe, if you want. It's not like it's a family secret or anything, like Nana's shortbread." 

"No thanks. I don't really like to cook." 

**Spice Tarts**

"How'd you do this?" Ronon cradled the little tart in his hands like it was something precious. 

"I'm pretty good at ferreting things out," Evan replied. "Took some legwork and a little research. But until you taste it I won't know if it was worthwhile." 

Ronon sniffed at the tart. "Smells the same." He took a surprisingly delicate bite. 

"Well?" 

Ronon swallowed, and then favored Evan with such a bright, brilliant smile that he momentarily forgot how to breathe. 

"It tastes just like I remember." 

Evan was relieved. He'd spent months working on the surprise, wanting to do something nice for Ronon. He could've done a painting or made the tiramisu that had become his special-occasion specialty, but he wanted to give Ronon back something from his home world and the culture that had been so callously destroyed by the Wraith. 

Ronon ate more of the tarts once Evan assured him that he'd written down the recipe and could replicate them at any time. 

"Or I could show you how to make them," he offered. 

"You like baking?" Ronon asked. 

"I do." 

"Why?" 

"It makes me feel closer to my grandmother," Evan said after a moment's thought. "She's the one who taught me to cook. It relaxes me. Gets me in a good headspace." 

Ronon nodded. "I hate cooking." 

"Why?" Evan countered. 

"For me it's been about survival. Cooking fast and dirty so I could eat something on the run without making myself sick. It was a necessity, a chore." Ronon popped another tart in his mouth and made a little noise of pleasure that had Evan's skin flushing hot. "Here I don't have to. People want to cook for me. I like it." 

Evan could understand that. Preparing someone a meal was about care and comfort, things that had been in short supply while Ronon was a Runner. 

"Did you try them?" Ronon asked, holding up a tart. 

"No. They're all yours." 

"Here. Taste it." 

Instead of handing the tart to Evan, Ronon held it up to his mouth. Evan's heart was racing, and he shared a long, heated look with Ronon before leaning in and taking a bite, his lips brushing against Ronon's fingers. 

The mix of Satedan spices, carefully gathered from local markets and Sateda itself, were strong and rich and complex. Like Ronon. Evan licked his lips. 

"Not bad." 

"Thank you. For doing this for me." Ronon lowered the tart and kissed Evan, and he tasted of those same exotic spices. 

They made a good pair, Evan thought as he wound his arms around Ronon. One loved to cook, the other loved to eat. Perfect culinary symbiosis.

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** Nagi_schwarz left this prompt and I was going to do a straight-up Evan/Ronon fic, since at least in fanon Evan is a master at baking. But then we talked a little about it and she mentioned it would be nice not to go the obvious route, so I expanded my vision to include Ronon's team as well. And this is what happened. ::grins::


End file.
